Chapter 13 #2
He was gone, leaving Lachlan visibly stunned. Then the giant shook his head, grinned, and turned to Paloma.
“He’s the one. All those men in L.A., New York, London, and mine was on Dragons all along.”
“You’re not gonna ask his name?” Deryn propped her hip against the counter. Reem suddenly reappeared in the doorway and gave Lachlan a long, assessing stare. He smiled at her widely, laying on the charm.
“Nope, I shall find that out myself. He is clearly in love with me already, so this is fated.”
Paloma shook her head at her assistant’s antics. Reem looked unimpressed.
“Why are you here, Lachlan?”
He started to speak, then pursed his lips, clearly having already forgotten why he came down to the kitchens to begin with. Then he slapped himself on the forehead.
“Oh! Ms. Crowhart called and wanted to confirm that the Library Board of Governors meets in an hour and that you would still be attending.” He paused, looked at Deryn, and amended. “Ms. Ceridwen Crowhart. The eldest of her name.”
Deryn laughed and reached into the fridge for another cupcake, handing it to Paloma.
“You don’t need to film your content, or whatever you call it?” Paloma watched the long fingers holding the confectionary gently. She remembered the taste. It was magnificent.
“Oh, yeah… Well. Later.” Something in the way Deryn was watching her, as if she were desperate for Paloma to take another bite, was disconcerting. And appealing. And disconcerting. Yet so damn appealing.
Paloma shook her head.
“I need you to be ready in forty-five minutes if you’re going to accompany me to the Board meeting. Doable?” She infused her voice with as much niceness as possible for Reem’s sake. This event had been on their joint appearances list for weeks now. Surely Deryn remembered.
Deryn nodded, but something told Paloma the fake niceness and the return to their business arrangement upset her ostensibly.
“Yes, I mean, sure, I will wrap up here and come upstairs.”
Paloma saw the hurt in the emerald eyes, and something inside her twisted painfully.
She wanted to sigh. Or scream. She wanted to get out of here.
Instead, she reached out and gave in to the impulse she had been fighting since she came down to the kitchens.
Paloma’s fingertips caressed the sharp jawline and wiped the white chocolate off Deryn’s face.
“I’ll see you upstairs.”
She turned on her heel and left. As the elevator doors shut behind her, Paloma lifted the fingers to her mouth and licked the sweetness off of them.
“So, the book bans?” Deryn, in tight jeans with only one hole in them—she must’ve taken some of the words in the invitation to join Paloma seriously—held her hand gently and very demonstratively, lest any of the Crow’s Nest townspeople mistake their relationship for anything else.
She didn’t need to try so hard. Paloma could see on the faces of everyone they met that the Caw had done a lot of good in spreading this story far and wide.
They had gotten many smiles, some sneers and winks, and quite a few whistles.
Deryn ignored all of them. Paloma admired this kind of self-confidence and comfort with fame.
She did not enjoy the attention. It grated, and it made her skin feel too tight, foreign, her bones too sharp for it. Still, she smiled back, tried to ignore the sneers, and usually joked or teased those who whistled or catcalled.
“Paloma? The meeting? Library issues with the books, I thought you said?”
Deryn squeezed her hand for emphasis, and Paloma flinched.
“Sorry, sorry! I didn’t mean to.”
“No, no, you’re fine, Ms. Crowha… Ah, Deryn…” Something in that rough, calloused hand, something in the way it held hers, so strong, so…
The flashback was more vivid than her reality. The way the light fell on Deryn’s hair—the light mahogany of it—and the green eyes, the feeling of her hand being held tightly, being led through the crowd to the town hall…
“You will need a notice of intention to build for the permit ledger. And other papers. Have you perchance gotten any of them already? Never mind. I will help you. I’ve had to do so for my bake house.
We will get you a lawyer to take care of everything…
I know a few, they’re friends of the family—the Astors—or my brother himself. Don’t fret. It will be alright.”
The woman, so like Deryn and yet clearly not, looked at Paloma, who wasn’t Paloma at all, with wide and kind eyes. Eyes full of affection. Of lov—
Someone jostled Paloma from the side, bumping into her, only to be pushed away by Deryn, and she shook the vision off.
Focus!
“The Library Board of Governors meeting. Ceridwen informed me a few weeks ago and opened it up to the public for the first time in years. Usually, they meet amongst themselves. To my knowledge, they only have one thing on the agenda.”
“The challenged books.”
Paloma threw Deryn a sideways glance.
“What?” Deryn pouted. “I am reading the Caw too, nowadays. But also, I live with Ceridwen, and while I understand that you don’t think me much of an intellectual, we do discuss…um, stuff. Sometimes.”
Paloma smiled.
“I disagree with your assessment of my opinion of you…Deryn. I don’t think you lack intellect. I think you have laser focus. As in, you only care about what you care about and pay attention to those things. You must care about the library?”
Deryn touched the back of her own neck, her eyes on everything but Paloma.
“Well, let’s just say I care about Ceridwen. And this is something that matters a great deal to her.”
Paloma was aware that her smile widened.
It was really very sweet, the love the sisters clearly had for one another.
She had honestly expected the rest of the quartet to show up on her doorstep with shotguns when the Caw broke the news about them.
Maybe Deryn did confide in them that this arrangement was fiction?
The thought felt like a punch in the solar plexus. Like a betrayal.
Why did she care what the other Crowharts thought?
Why was it important? And yes, technically, Deryn signed an NDA, but Paloma knew how these things worked, and she wasn’t going to hold it against Deryn if she told her sisters, as they seemed inordinately close to each other.
Moreover, Paloma believed that if they knew about the true nature of the relationship, they were also keeping it a secret because they liked her…
didn’t they? And they wanted her to win. Hadn’t Lachlan implied as much?
“Thank you.” Deryn’s voice was barely a whisper, and it sounded very close to her ear. Paloma realized that while she was quietly and quickly spiraling in her mind, Deryn had safely guided her past the vendors of the busy Market Square and into the even busier town hall foyer.
“Well, you’re welcome, I’m sure.” Paloma gave Deryn’s leather jacket a little flick with her fingertips, more to feel the soft leather, seeking any kind of sensory grounding and closeness, than for any lint that might’ve been there.
“Ah, Ms. Allende.” Ceridwen touched her forearm. “I’m so glad you could join us today.”
“It’s an issue I am keeping a very close eye on. Especially due to the anonymous nature of these complaints.” Paloma looked around. “I see I’m not the only one.”
The foyer was indeed the most crowded she had ever seen it.
She spotted several Crowharts, Prudence Fowler, and Judge Astor.
Greg Gangson was talking to Headmistress Nox, of all people.
Her wife stood quietly near them, a concerned expression on her face.
Overall, a lot of the townspeople were present.
She turned to her left and finally spotted the one person she was looking for.
Except he wasn’t alone. For once, John Moss was accompanied by a man Paloma had never seen before.
“His name is Gerard, and apparently, he is his campaign manager,” Ceridwen supplied helpfully.
“Ah, the name seems apt. He reminds me of that French actor convicted of sexual harassment. Except he’s not as tall and not as…French, I guess.”
“Oh, so basically that makes him Gerard Depardon’t,” Deryn said with a completely straight face, and Paloma had to bite her lip not to laugh.
Ceridwen was less successful in hiding her mirth.
The eldest Crowhart sister covered her mouth with her hand and turned away from the man who was glaring at everyone around him.
“I am again questioning how Moss can afford an actual campaign manager. And this one apparently ran some Senate races in the South, so he has clout. And that implies money.”
Ceridwen spoke carefully so as not to be overheard. Paloma took another look at Not French Gerard.
“I’m of the impression that the Moss family is rich,” she said quietly.
Deryn laid a hand on her hip, listening carefully, and Paloma felt that touch at her very core, her fingers no longer cold, her skin burning up.
She drew in air slowly, then let it out, hoping to distract herself from the sensation.
If anything, she was even more aware of the touch.
Deryn leaned closer, the scent of vanilla making Paloma lightheaded.
Ceridwen looked between the two of them for a moment too long before answering.
“Not run-a-Senate-style-campaign rich. Even you’re not running one of those.”
Paloma gave her a small smile and tugged on Deryn’s hand. It was time to move before she did something drastic.
The clock on the town hall tower chimed twelve times, and the crowd moved slowly into the assembly room, which, while large, still could not accommodate everyone.
“Do you want me to get you a seat?” Deryn held her hand just as tightly in hers as she had for the past ten minutes.
“No, I’ll stand—”
“Smart.” Lachlan miraculously appeared at her elbow.
“How did you even get here? Weren’t you at the resort?” Deryn whispered.